


Dropping the Mask

by AllThoseOtherWorlds



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Genetic Engineering, Genetic Enhancement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllThoseOtherWorlds/pseuds/AllThoseOtherWorlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the inhabitants of DS9 are involved in a potentially deadly series of "tests", Julian has a choice to make: does he protect his secret, or his patients?</p><p>An alternate story for the discovery of his genetic enhancements.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dropping the Mask

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I do not profit from this.**
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> **Grammar and spelling beta'd by Tangelene, but story and characterization faults are my own.**
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> **Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome! Even if you didn't finish reading the piece, I'd like to know what you did and/or didn't like. If anything I said is offensive or wrong, let me know and I'll change it.**
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> **Yeah, Worf isn't in this. He's got business off-station or something. I think this takes place in season four - they know about the Dominion but aren't at war yet, and people like Bashir and respect him as a doctor. Also, I know I write a lot of stories about this particular plot element from the show. I think I just like stories involving secrets - especially secret abilities. I can't promise this will be the last.**

                Sisko didn’t even notice the transporter beam – or whatever it was – until it had already taken him. To his eyes, it seemed that he was in ops one moment, and then the next he was in a large room of some kind along with Dax, Bashir, and O’Brien. The others all looked just as confused as he was, and they surveyed the room with caution.

                It was very large, neutrally-coloured, and a section on the far end was separated off with some sort of energy barrier. The rest of the room was divided into four long strips, and each officer stood in one of them.

                “Where are we?” O’Brien asked, examining the energy barrier. “I didn’t feel any kind of a transporter.”

                “I don’t know,” Dax responded, “But we need to find a way out.”

                “Yes,” Sisko agreed. “But how?”

                Nobody seemed to have any sort of response to that, and after a few moments their thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a large number of people behind the barrier across the room. They all seemed to be people from the station – Sisko recognized Kira, Garak, several vedeks, and a few Starfleet ensigns, among others. Kira was, by far, the loudest.

                “What’s going on?” She demanded. “Why are we here?” She looked like she was about to punch the energy barrier, but held herself back at the last moment in case it was lethal.

                As if in answer to her questions, a voice was suddenly emanating from some unknown source and projecting out to them.

                “Starfleet officers Benjamin Sisko, Jadzia Dax, Julian Bashir, and Miles O’Brien, you have a series of mental and physical tasks to complete. These tasks will increase in difficulty as you finish them, and the more you can complete, the more of your people you can save. Should you fail to complete the tasks to our satisfaction, people will die. We will stop you when you have successfully completed the tasks, or when you are no longer able to continue. Good luck.”

                “They can’t be serious,” Miles said, eyeing the room’s setup. “What’s the point?”

                “I don’t know,” Julian told him, “But are we willing to take that risk?”

                “He’s right,” Sisko said. “Escape would be ideal, but _I_ don’t see any way out. It looks like we may have no choice but to play along with whatever it is they want us to do.”

                The others sighed, but knew he was right. There didn’t seem to be a way past the energy barriers – several people had thrown themselves at it in some sort of escape attempt – and even if they could get past them, how could they escape the room? They didn’t know where they were, or how they’d gotten there, and they certainly didn’t know how to get out. Sisko hated the thought that some of his crew could end up dead, but he didn’t see any alternative.

                He resolved to go along with their unknown captors until some better option presented itself, and nodded to the others to do the same. With that settled, they looked at the strips in front of them to look for these “tests”.

                After a few seconds had passed, an apparently holographic setup of some kind appeared in each strip – all different. Sisko took the time to ensure that the other officers were not being immediately harmed by whatever it was they had to do before he threw himself into his own challenge.

                He could only hope that, whatever this was, they would all make it out alive.

***

                Kira was pissed. She didn’t know exactly where she was or what was going on, but she’d heard the message given to the others and she was most definitely _not pleased_ with it. She didn’t like being in a situation where other people had to save her, and she greatly resented the fact that there didn’t seem to be a way to get herself out of this one.

                That wasn’t going to stop her from trying.

                She paid careful attention to her surroundings, looking for anything that might indicate a door or transporter. There was nothing. The walls faded seamlessly into the ceiling and floor, and although the presence of the energy barriers and holograms meant that there had to be some electronic devices somewhere, she couldn’t see them.

                She sighed heavily and resigned herself to watching the situation unfold.

                She’d noticed – with no small measure of irritation – that all the other senior officers seemed to have been selected for the actual Doing Stuff portion of the test. If Sisko, Dax, Bashir, and O’Brien were all allowed to actually participate, why couldn’t she? The fact that people (including herself, apparently) might be in danger made her itch to _do something_ about it, and she would much rather be participating in the challenges than watching others do it for her.

                The only explanation she could come up with for her exclusion was the fact that, of the senior officers, she was the only Bajoran. All the others were Starfleet officers. She didn’t know why that was important to these people, but apparently it was.

                With nothing else to do that could make even the slightest bit of difference she resorted to her only remaining course of action. She knelt to sit on the floor and tried to calm her mind to pray.

                She just had to trust that the prophets – and her fellow officers – would be able to get them out of this before anybody died.

***

                The tests were easy enough for now, Miles decided. He wasn’t going to expect them to stay that way, though. For now, most of the challenges were simple mathematics, pattern recognition, or hand-eye coordination tests. He remembered his experience playing darts and racquetball with Julian gratefully, glad now for the extra practice that had given him at hitting targets.

                He was too busy focusing on his own tests to pay attention to those faced by his friends, but he guessed from some of the muttering he heard from Jadzia as she worked that they had similar tasks to his own.

                He still wasn't sure what they were really doing here - what was the point of capturing a bunch of Starfleet officers and making them do random tasks while their friends were under a death threat?

                He pushed the train of thought to the back of his mind as a new test appeared - this one more intensive than the simple dodging exercise he had been doing. Apparently scientific knowledge was fair game, too.

                He did notice that none of the questions were on anything engineering-specific. He'd seen things from biology, physics, mathematics, and other such topics, but everything had been vague enough that it couldn't be tied down to a specific culture.

                He wasn't sure what that meant, but he tucked it away for further consideration before focusing back on the holographic lights currently lined up for him to throw at a target - this one further away than its predecessors.

***

                Garak watched with a mixture of caution and amusement as the senior Starfleet officers jumped through their captor's hoops. Several Bajorans had accosted him already, certain that he knew something about the situation. They were sorely disappointed to discover that he knew no more than they did.

                To be perfectly honest - something he tried to do only in the sanctity of his own mind - he had absolutely no idea what was going on, although he had to give credit to whoever had taken them. There was nothing to indicate why they were here, where "here" was, or how to get out.

                It was the perfect way to get the Starfleet officers to comply. The thought had occurred to him - and had probably occurred to them also - that this whole thing could be a ruse, and nobody was in any real danger. He knew, however, that they would all be duty-bound to treat the situation as though it were genuine, particularly without anything to base judgement on one way or another.

                For his own personal safety, he couldn't help but be grateful for that fact.

                Since there was very little else to do for entertainment while he waited, he decided to watch the performances of the four officers as they performed their assigned tasks. He believed that Dax would last the longest, given her status as a joined trill, although he thought with a measure of pride that the good Doctor would probably do an impressive job also.

                O'Brien and Sisko were good officers too, of course, but their strengths didn't seem to be of much use to them here - making command decisions or fixing broken ships evidently wasn't something on which they were being tested.

                Each of the four had a slightly different style to their movements and responses, Garak noted with interest. Captain Sisko was determined and forceful with his movements and answers, slowing or stopping them when they weren't required.

                Jadzia was constantly in motion, even when there wasn't something actively flinging itself at her. It was as though the shifting and fidgeting was preparing her for the next attack - she was doing admirably.

                O'Brien, too, was usually moving, but in a different way than Jadzia. Where she was shifting and fidgeting with her whole body, O'Brien restrained himself to looking around the room suspiciously with an intently thoughtful gaze whenever he had the time. Garak suspected that he was looking for some way out, and applauded the goal, however impossible it probably was.

                The Doctor ... now he was interesting. He seemed to remain still when he didn't need to be in motion, but even when he wasn't actively moving or speaking there was an air of action in his posture. He was always ready to spring into movement, reflexes kicking in and giving him a speed that the others seemed to lack. He was doing better even than Garak had predicted he would do, which pleased the tailor to no end.

                It was nice to be surprised every now and then by one's friends - provided that such a surprise was nonlethal, of course.

***

                Julian knew he was taking a risk, tackling these tests the way he was. They had been almost ridiculously easy at first, although the difficulty level had increased since then. He had tried to restrain himself the way he usually did, slowing his movements and his reflexes just a little, just enough to pass for normal.

                This situation wasn't normal.

                He didn't know whether or not to believe the voice that promised death to innocent people if they failed. He had no clue who the source was, after all, or whether or not it was trustworthy. What he did know was that he was a doctor, and he was bound both by his job and his own morality to try to save people whenever he could.

                He had taken a few risks in the past - letting people knock him unconscious in a fight if he knew others would be able to manage it, for example, or keeping silent about the extent of his abilities in certain situations. When it came down to it though, he had never held back his abilities if there was a real chance of people being injured or killed because of it. In his career as a doctor, he pushed himself to his limits regularly, using every genetically-enhanced cell to save as many people as possible.

                This wasn't precisely the same situation, of course, but he couldn't help seeing it the same way.

                In nearly any other circumstance, he was able to think of the so-called "greater good" - lie about his genetics to become a doctor and save lives. When it came to his presence in Starfleet he had always told himself that the ends justified the means.

                He had never been able to really believe that when people were dying. He knew that there was a chance that pretending here would do more good in the long run, but something in his core - the part that would always be a doctor, no matter what happened - wouldn't let him. He had to do his best, even if his best would ruin him.

                Having made his decision and determined to commit himself to it, he refocused his full attention on the task in front of him. There were increasingly high-pitched tones being played from a variety of angles, and milliseconds after each tone played a small globe of light hurled itself at him.

                He gritted his teeth, hoped the others would, by some miracle, not notice the unusual quality of his performance, and began to dodge.

***

                Sisko squinted at the coloured tiles, trying to figure out which one was closer to red and which was closer to purple. After staring at them for a good two minutes he finally gave up and picked a tile. Apparently it was the wrong one.

                The coloured tiles vanished abruptly, as the holograms always did when the test was complete, but this time there was nothing else to take their place. Instead of a new challenge he was left with an empty strip of floor.

                He sighed, frustrated with the entire situation. He had no idea how he’d done, or what it meant for the people who were trapped on the other side of the room. He turned to see how the others were doing and saw the O’Brien had also lost – or whatever it was – but that Dax and Bashir were still at it. He pondered talking with the engineer and trying to discuss the situation, but he didn’t want to distract Dax and Bashir, both of whom were between him and O’Brien.

                It made sense that those two were the last to remain, he thought. The doctor was young and intelligent, and Dax had lifetimes of experience and developed skill to draw on. He spent the next ten minutes or so watching them and continuing to examine the room for anything that might provide useful information. He glanced back from his examination of the energy shield around his space to find that Dax had apparently failed a test as well.

                He turned to look at her and she shrugged. “I guess I don’t have the range of hearing that Julian does.” She gestured over to the strip where the doctor was responding to a set of seemingly inaudible tones. “I don’t know how he can hear any of that.”

                “Yes,” Sisko agreed. “Although I suppose it’s fortunate that he can.” He dropped the smile that had started to form on his face and looked seriously at Dax. “What do you make of this situation? Do you believe the threat?”

                “I don’t know,” she said. “I’d like to say that it’s all a ruse, but I really don’t have anything to go on. I just hope that between what we three have done and whatever Julian accomplishes, everyone will live.”

                “I agree,” Sisko said. “Frankly, this seems like a lot of trouble for someone to go through. It’s hard to believe they find it worthwhile.”

                “Mmm.” Dax agreed. “I guess we’ll find out what’s going on soon enough.” She paused for a moment, still watching Bashir. “Although not _too_ soon, from Julian’s performance.”

                “I don’t see how he’s that good,” they heard O’Brien say from across the room. “I beat him at darts all the time!”

                “Or he _lets_ you beat him,” Dax said, and although her tone was teasing Sisko knew there was a serious question there too.

                Sisko watched the doctor, relieved to see that Bashir was either too focused on his tasks, or hadn’t heard them. He had just finished something that did look, as O’Brien had pointed out, suspiciously like darts. Now he was doing a math set, rattling off calculations and estimations that Sisko hadn’t known humans could do in their heads.

                He was becoming increasingly suspicious about the doctor’s performance, but he wasn’t going to bring it up until he knew everybody was safe. However Bashir was managing to pass all these tests, it was quite possibly saving people’s lives, and that was what mattered for now.

***

                Garak watched with surprised delight – and no small amount of chagrin – as the good doctor managed to excel beyond his expectations.

                He was always pleased when his friend managed to surprise him; such unexpected outcomes were better from a friend than from an enemy, certainly. However, he was also puzzled by his performance. Was it even possible for humans to do such tasks?

                He watched as the doctor rattled off the end of a mathematical equation and began another challenge involving multitasking. He had already begun to compile a list of things which would explain doctor Bashir’s startling abilities, ranging from most to least likely. Included on the list was the possibility of substance abuse (unlikely), several Vulcan ancestors (even less likely), or some sort of genetic manipulation.

                He figured that was the most likely – it would explain why the doctor had been hiding it up until now, since he would probably lose his job once it was discovered. Leave it to doctor Bashir to reveal something so dangerous in the hopes of saving people. Garak couldn’t help but smile to himself. Despite the doctor’s apparent skill at keeping secrets – he had no doubt nobody would have discovered his abilities had he not chosen to reveal them now – he was still quite naïve and extremely devoted to his job.

                Garak decided it was part of what made the doctor so endearing.

***

                What the hell was going on with Julian? Miles remembered losing badly to him at racquetball once or twice, but he also remembered beating him at darts plenty of times, and he knew that no matter how smart Julian was, he’d never done calculations like that in his head before – at least not that he knew of.

                He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, he was miffed that his friend had apparently been holding back on him for so long. He didn’t like to feel patronized. On the other hand, whatever was letting Julian do all this was also probably going to save people’s lives, so he wasn’t going to complain too loudly.

                He resolved not to think about exactly _what_ it was that was behind this incredible show of skill until they’d gotten the rest of the mess sorted out. Whatever was going on here was more important.

                Still, he _would_ be talking to Julian about all this later. He had to make sure that his friend was okay, and he wanted to find out just _what_ had been going on during all of those darts matches he’d won.

                As long as he thought about the darts matches instead of whatever would cause Julian to hide all this, he would be okay.

***

                Julian knew he was going to give out soon. Genetically enhanced or not, there was only so much he could do. He grunted softly as a holographic orb nearly slammed into him, and braced himself just in time for the next one to knock him to his knees.

                He knew that what he’d done was dangerous. He’d been able to catch a glance or two of his friends while he was going through all this, and the looks on their faces had told him that he would have to deal with the fallout once this was over – and he knew what that fallout meant. Still, if it meant that Garak, Kira, and the others would survive, it was worth it.

                That was, after all, why he was a doctor.

                Mere seconds after he failed the test and fell to the floor, the holographic projections vanished. In their place was the voice that had alerted them to the tests to begin with, but this time it was accompanied by a video projection in the centre of the room.

                He didn’t recognize the species of alien speaking to them, but considering what they were explaining he wasn’t all that surprised.

                “Congratulations,” their captor said. “You have proven yourselves worthy of contact with us through your determination and strength. You have completed the tasks sufficiently and none of your people will be harmed.” The creature looked at Julian directly, an appraising gleam in their eyes. “You, in particular, performed well. You saved many of your companion’s lives.” They turned to look at everyone assembled before continuing.

                “You all showed dedication and a desire to help the others. We will return you to your station and, if you permit it, will dock our ship to make first contact with your Federation in a more official manner, as we are sure your species would prefer.”

                “Are you telling me all this was just some sort of _evaluation_ to see if we were worthy?” Kira exclaimed angrily. “Were we safe the whole time or were you actually prepared to kill us for your stupid procedures?” she asked.

                “Not now, Major,” Sisko warned, although Julian suspected that the Captain agreed with her. _Julian_ agreed with her – and agreeing with Kira was not something he tended to do frequently.

                “We would have carried out our threat,” the alien told them. “If we didn’t, what would our word be worth? But do not dwell on it; your people are safe. Captain, will you permit us to dock our vessel?”

                The captain hesitated, but eventually agreed. “I suppose you can,” he relented. “On the condition that you do _not_ put any of the people on the station in danger like this again.”

                “Your people are safe, captain,” the alien reassured him. “We will dock soon. Return to your vessel.”

                Julian saw Kira open her mouth to say something, but whatever complaint she was likely to voice was cut off as whatever transporter system the aliens used overtook them. In the blink of an eye they were all standing in the replimat, looking around with varying degrees of anger, confusion, and exhaustion.

                “You can’t just let them come _back!_ ” Kira said, glaring at Sisko.

                “I can and I will, Major,” he told her. “They seem to be far more technologically advanced than we are, and we may be able to benefit from them. Not to mention,” he added, “That I’m not particularly keen to have them for enemies,”

                “I suppose,” Kira relented, although she still looked displeased.

                They all stood there in awkward silence for a moment as everyone waited for someone else to bring up the elephant in the room. Finally, Sisko spoke.

                “Doctor Bashir, while I must commend you on your performance earlier, and the lives it saved, I have to admit that it wasn’t something I would have expected you to be capable of.”

                “Yeah,” Miles said. “How’d you do it?”

                Bashir looked down. The moment of truth was here, and although he had told himself he was prepared for it, he wasn’t sure that he actually was.

                “Can we go somewhere less public?” he asked. He knew he had to do this, but he didn’t have to do it in front of the whole replimat.

                “Certainly,” Sisko said. “Let’s go to the briefing room.”

                Once they were all settled around the familiar briefing table – Garak included – Julian cleared his throat and forced himself to speak.

                “Uh, I’m afraid I must resign, Sir,” he said nervously.

                “Resign?” Sisko asked. “Doctor, don’t you think that’s a bit sudden? I think you owe us an explanation first, at the very least.”

                “Yes, Sir,” Julian said. “I, uh, was taken to Adigeon Prime when I was a child, Sir,” he managed.

                “Adigeon Prime…” Jadzia mused. “That’s not a Federation world.”

                “No,” Julian agreed. “Mostly because of their work with genetic resequencing.”

                The room was silent for a long moment before Miles spoke. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked. “That you’re…”

                “Genetically enhanced? Unnatural? A freak and a danger to everyone around me?” Julian suggested bitterly. “Yes.” He stared off into space for a moment, remembering his childhood before continuing. He knew that giving them more than what they already knew would change nothing, but now that it was out in the open he couldn’t help himself.

                “I was six,” he began. “I wasn’t much compared to my classmates, and I knew it. My parents knew it, and I knew that I was a great disappointment to them. I was small, awkward, and not very bright. I was having a hard time telling dogs from cats at an age where my classmates were learning how to read and write and use a computer.” He remembered coming home from school crying, knowing that his peers were making fun of him but not really understanding why. He knew he wasn’t as good at them at stuff, but he didn’t see why they had to hurt him for it. He still didn’t. He took a breath and continued speaking.

                “I don’t know what would have happened if they had treated me for a learning disorder instead of going to Adigeon Prime, and I guess I never will. I was excited to see all the aliens, and to be somewhere new. Then they started treatment, and everything changed.”

                He forced himself to look away from the window he’d fixed his gaze on and to focus again on his friends. They were watching him intently, and he couldn’t read their faces.

                “They enhanced my intelligence, of course – up five points a day for more than two weeks. They also improved my hand-eye coordination, reflexes, strength, senses, height, weight – by the time it was over I was a completely different person.”

                He focused his gaze on captain Sisko now, relieved to find that the man didn’t look as angry as he’d been expecting. Not that it mattered.

                “And that, Sir, is why I must resign. Genetically enhanced individuals are not allowed to be doctors or to serve in Starfleet, and I knew that when I applied to the academy. I’m a fraud.”

                Julian gave in to the overwhelming urge to look away from his friends, and focused his gaze firmly on the table. The few seconds of silence that followed felt like an eternity.

                “You’re a good doctor,” Sisko said at last. “And a good man. I don’t want to lose you.”

                “You’re doing good things here,” Jadzia agreed. “It doesn’t help anyone if you get forced out of Starfleet.”

                “Laws regarding genetic enhancements are somewhat different on Cardassia,” Garak said. “We’re not as paranoid about it as the Federation is. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the rules here.”

                “I’m not familiar with it either,” Kira said.

                “Under Federation law,” Julian told them, “Nobody with genetic enhancements is allowed to serve in Starfleet or practice medicine. I don’t see any way around it.”

                “I doubt there’s been a lawsuit about any of this in a long time,” Miles added. “Do we even have to let it become an issue?”

                “I can’t ask all of you to keep _my_ secret,” Julian protested. “And besides, the others from the replimat will suspect eventually.”

                “I suppose,” Sisko said. “But we can make a case for you, try to convince Starfleet to let you keep your commission.”

                “Julian shook his head. “I don’t want to make a big fuss.” He’d known what he was getting into when he became a doctor, and he had been aware of the consequences when he revealed his secret. He didn’t regret it, but he didn’t want more infamy than was necessary from it either.

                “Julian,” Jadzia said, “Let us help you. Please, don’t leave without fighting this.”

                “Yeah, Julian,” Miles added, “I need someone to play darts with – _especially_ now that it turns out you’ve been holding back on me.”

                “And I would greatly miss our lunches together, Doctor,” Garak said. “It would be a shame to lose your position and your home over something like this.”

                Kira smiled at him. “You’re a good doctor.”

                Julian shook his head, wondering that they were really willing to help him with this. He’d expected anger, feelings of betrayal – negative things, not protection and support. They were looking at him with hope in their eyes, and he couldn’t bring himself to let them down.

                “All right,” he relented. “But don’t expect much to come of it.”

***

                As it turned out, things did come of it. Several weeks passed in a blur as the case was presented and discussed and argued. All of the court cases and debates could be done from the station via video communication, and they didn’t take too much time away from anyone’s duties, but Julian still felt as though he were placing a burden on his friends and coworkers.

                There were many times throughout the ordeal that he had felt like giving up: he’d known he wasn’t allowed to serve in Starfleet, and now he was paying the price for lying. Whenever he felt like that, though, someone would talk to him and make him feel better.

                Everyone was surprisingly supportive. Miles had instigated a few new rules to even out their holodeck adventures and dart games, and made a few jokes about his genetic status, but they were all in good fun and Julian knew they were meant to make him feel more at ease. Jadzia did her best to cheer him up when he was feeling down, reassuring him that his presence as a Starfleet doctor was for the best, no matter what the laws were.

                Garak was interesting. All of his other friends had been at least mildly concerned by the fact that he’d been able to hide it from them for the years he’d been on the station, but they’d forgiven him for it because there hadn’t been another option. Where they were consternated by the secrets, Garak was thrilled.

                Their first lunch after the big reveal, he’d gushed (not a word Julian usually associated with the spy/tailor, but in this case it was accurate) to Julian about how _good_ he was at keeping it hidden, and how there were still signs that _Garak_ , at least, should have caught, and _really, Doctor, this puts our adventure last month in a whole new light._ He spent a lot of time analyzing previous events in light of the new information, but was always sure to ask Julian for his experiences and opinions, and somehow despite his fascination with the issue, Julian never felt uncomfortable.

                If anything, Julian was almost flattered that he’d managed to impress his friend. After the initial lengthy discussions over that first lunch, their conversations went back to pretty much what they’d always been – albeit with less “forgetfulness” on Julian’s part regarding their novels.

                Now, three weeks after the encounter with the aliens (who had, in fact, made formal contact with the station, much to Kira’s displeasure), things were looking up. The final details of the ruling were still being finalized, but Julian had been assured that he would get to keep his commission. Worf had returned from his trip, and although he had been more visibly disconcerted by the news than the others, he had at least refrained from making any overt comments about Julian. All things considered, the situation had pretty much worked itself out for the best.

***

                “Don’t get me wrong,” Julian was saying to Garak one day at lunch, “I’m pleased with how things have unfolded. It’s just that I never thought…” He paused, organizing his feelings. “I never thought things could work out this way. I’d made up my mind to be a doctor long before I discovered my genetic status at fifteen. I knew I had to keep it a secret to follow that dream, and I always assumed that if I found out I’d be ostracised, not only from my job but also from everyone I knew. To have people react the way they have – it’s almost disconcerting.”

                “A perfectly understandable reaction” Garak said, sipping at a mug of red leaf tea. “But I have learned that most things do not work out as we anticipate they will – for better or for worse. Although really, I have a hard time believing that a society as advanced as you claim the Federation is would really judge you so severely for something as minor as genetic adjustment.”

                “It dates back to the Eugenic War,” Julian explained, cupping his own mug of Tarkalean tea for warmth. “A group of genetically enhanced humans tried to take over the Earth. I guess they’re still afraid of something similar happening even now, although thankfully it seems that they’re a little more reasonable about it.”

                “My dear Doctor,” Garak said, “I don’t think they’re being reasonable at all. If they were being reasonable, it wouldn’t have taken three weeks to get these reassurances. You said your abilities are similar to those of a Vulcan, correct? They don’t have issues with Vulcan doctors.”

                “It’s more the principle of the thing,” Julian decided, “But I’m not going to play devil’s advocate on my own argument.”

                “Devil’s advocate,” Garak mused, “such a strange phrase.” He shook his head, apparently wondering at the strange idioms that still lingered in Federation Standard. “In any case, Doctor, would you care to drop by my quarters tonight? I thought you might appreciate Tanoor Lom’s work more if you saw it performed.”

                “I didn’t know Cardassians had theatre,” Julian said, leaning forward with interest. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

                “Not at all,” Garak affirmed. “Performance is an important skill on Cardassia – in addition to merely fitting the role, you must let yourself _become_ it. It is an important skill if one is to serve the Cardassian Union effectively.”

                “I’m sure,” Julian said, trying to picture Garak in some sort of school play. He smothered a laugh at the images that popped into his head – Garak dressed up as a tree or something, criticizing the costume choices, leaving people in the dark as to what role he was really playing – and focused instead on answering his friend’s question.

                “Yes, of course I’ll meet you tonight. What time?”

                “How does 1900 hours sound?” Garak asked.

                “Sounds good to me,” Julian said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I must be off. I have a shorter shift than usual today, and I promised Miles I’d meet him for an hour in the holodeck.”

                “Is he still altering the program to give himself an advantage?” Garak inquired.

                “Of course,” Julian grinned. “He insists on evening the score. I’m not sure how it matters – the battles we’re re-enacting have set stories attached to them, and we’re supposed to lose.” He shrugged. “It makes him feel better. I think he’s still trying to make up for all that racquetball I won that first year.”

                “Ah,” Garak said. “Well, do have fun Doctor. I look forward to seeing you tonight.”

                “Me too,” Julian said, smiling. “See you later, Garak.”

                As he headed back to the infirmary for another couple of hours, he decided that, all things considered, he was almost glad that he’d been found out. _That_ certainly wasn’t something he ever thought he’d think, but he had come to find that it was the truth.

                It was a relief to discover that the other people on the station liked – or disliked – him for _himself_ , rather than simply for his genetics.

                He reached his office in the infirmary and started to organize some files while he went over everything he knew about Tanoor Lom and tried to decide what holoprogram to play with Miles.

                He couldn’t tell what the future would bring – war with the Dominion, trouble with Cardassia or the Klingons or both, plagues and diseases and pain, perhaps – there was always something to fight against, he knew.

                But for now, life was pretty good, and for now, that was enough.


End file.
